


To Bespell a Surprise

by iwakehungryaftersoundsleep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Birthday, Boyfriends, Hogwarts, M/M, Magic, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwakehungryaftersoundsleep/pseuds/iwakehungryaftersoundsleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, keeping a secret is as hard as raising Blast-Ended Skrewts in a London apartment.  With Louis’ seventeenth birthday fast approaching, Harry takes drastic measures to keep Louis’ surprise party a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Bespell a Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> A fluffy Hogwarts AU written at while at work...I can't control the muse, can I? *feel free to hate me for writing that, I hate myself more* anyways, enjoy!!
> 
> URGENT: I moved Louis' birthday to December 10th so it takes place while Hogwarts is in session

“I’m throwing him a surprise party,” Harry said, jumping onto the puffy red couch next to Liam. “And this time he won’t find out.”

Niall looked up from the pile of pumpkin pasties that were monopolizing his attention. “You already tried that third year. He found out a week in advance.”

Harry pouted. “No, but this is his seventh year. My beloved boyfriend’s big one seven. Seventeen, Niall. It has to be special. If it’s not, he’ll be disappointed.” Harry kicked off his shoes and pulled off his yellow and black striped tie. He carefully wrapped it around his head like a headscarf, tucking his dark brown curls back messily. “Well, what do you think, Liam? Any ideas for this party?”

Liam looked up from his transfiguration textbook. “Ask the house elves for help. And I know you won’t listen, but please don’t get firewhiskey. Please.” Liam said, shaking his head. “Nobody would believe I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry Liam, they aren’t going to take your Prefect badge just because you sometimes partake in the liquid of the gods.” Niall said. “Professor Longbottom won’t blame you for enjoying a good pint. It’s natural, man.”

Liam winced. “I’m such a bad prefect. Don’t tell me anything illegal. Please.”

“What if we had it in the forest?” Harry said. “We could make flower crowns and play with unicorns and dance in the moonlight… I could try to recruit some pixies for light.”

Zayn snorted. Harry noticed him for the first time, sprawled half behind the couch half asleep. His green and silver tie was tossed over his eyes to block out light. He looked like a dead greek god until he slowly sat up. “Unicorns? We all know you and Louis are far from pure, H. Pretty sure they’d run as far away from you as they could.”

“Louis and I are pure at heart!” Harry insisted.

“You two are so loud I spent six months inventing a stronger silencing charm.” Zayn said darkly.

“Go back to the dungeon, arsehole.”

“This isn’t your common room either.” Zayn said, sprawling out again.

“But how do I make sure it’s a secret?” Harry moaned, reverting to the previous subject. “He always guesses. Last year I got lost on the way to the restaurant I was trying to bring him too—one we had never been too—and he took off the blindfold and marched there himself. I still don’t know how he knew where we were going. And fifth year he asked me when the fireworks were starting before it even got dark. I spent so long hiding those in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. For nothing! I just want one good surprise.”

“Louis hates surprises.” Zayn said. “He considers it a game. Finding out what you are planning. And you know Lou is the most competitive person in the castle.”

“I’m throwing him a party. The most epic party. And I don’t care what it takes, he is going to be surprised.”

 

* * *

 

Harry grabbed Niall’s arm as they entered the charms classroom. It was mostly full, and Harry smiled at Louis’ head, sleeping on the desk. Harry started to walk towards the empty seat next to Louis reserved for him, and then stopped suddenly, grabbing Niall’s arm.

“Niall, go sit with Louis.” He whispered.

Niall’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“I can’t talk to him. He can smell my secrets.”

“He’s not a bloodhound.”

“He could be. He always wanted to be an animagus,”Harry hissed.

Niall laughed. “His birthday isn’t for a month.  Are yeh going to avoid him that long?”

Harry frowned. He really didn’t want to. He had barely spent a week apart from Louis since first year, the two of them visiting each other throughout the summer. But if that’s what it took… “Yes. I will. It’ll be worth it in the end….maybe.”

“Feckin hell Harry,” Niall said, chuckling. “This is goin to be a mess.”

They walked towards the empty seats. Louis turned around and grinned at Harry, who automatically smiled back brightly, his cheeks dimpling. He couldn’t help it! Louis was just so adorable and beautiful and manly and….

Niall jumped forward and slid into the seat next to Louis, throwing his arm over Louis’ shoulder. “Maaaaate!! What’s the craic?”

Harry sat down next to Niall’s friend Greg. “Hi Greg.”

“Styles,” Greg said with a friendly nod. “Dream couple going through a rough patch?”

“No!” Harry said, offended. “Of course not. We’re just…not speaking…for his own good…it’s a positive not speaking. With happy silence….uhm.” Harry trailed off awkwardly. He ignored the quizzical look Louis was sending him as Louis listened with half an ear to Niall’s happy chatter.

“Right. Happy silence.” Greg said, and raised an eyebrow. Then he nodded, accepting it. “Ready for this test?”

“….test?”

 

* * *

 

Harry collapsed next to Zayn in the library.

“You’ve got paper in your hair.” Zayn observed, before turning back to his Runes homework.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry swore. He leaned his head over the table and shook it wildly, three little paper balls falling out of his curls. “Louis is offended I’m not talking to him. At first he was passing me notes. Than he began throwing them. Than he turned it into a game. He cheers every time he hits my head. He cheered so loud when he hit my nose during Herbology that Longbottom took points from Slytherin….That’s one positive, I suppose.”

“What do they say?” Zayn asked.

“Nothing!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s the point. He isn’t passing notes, he’s just throwing paper at me.” He sighed. “He’s trying to get a reaction out of me. It’s not going to work.”

Zayn shrugged. “I didn’t think you went longer than two days without having sex. It’s been three. I lost 5 sickles.” He said.

“You were betting on my sex life?” Harry asked.

Zayn smirked.

Harry sniffed, mock offended. “Well, you can ask for your sickles back. You didn’t lose.”

“What?” Zayn asked.

“Just because I’m not talking to him doesn’t mean we aren’t having sex.” Harry said, blushing and smirking at the same time. “We have needs.”

Zayn groaned. “You two are the weirdest couple in the world.”

“So can you get a mixture of muggle and wizarding…relaxers…for this party? Lots?”

“You don’t smoke.” Zayn said flatly.

“Louis does. And so I want this party to have the best. Only the best for my boy.”

Harry smiled serenely and ignored Zayn as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I’m going to vomit.”

 

* * *

 

“Niall, tell him to get off my desk.” Harry said, purposely not looking at Louis as he jumped up and down on Harry’s Muggle Studies textbook.

“Mate! Hazza said to stop stomping on his notes.” Niall shouted cheerfully.

Louis jumped up and down in front of Harry’s face. “Harry can tell me himself.”

“Tomlinson! What on earth are you doing?” Professor Kahn exclaimed as she swanned into the Muggle Studies classroom.

“I’m demanding marital relations.” Louis replied. “You can’t ignore me forever, Hazza. I know you’re up to something.”

“Your understanding of the term ‘marital relations’ is as incorrect now as it was on the pop quiz, Tomlinson.” Professor Kahn said calmly. “Now please leave Mr. Styles alone and go find a seat. And for the future, boys, please leave your romantic troubles outside the classroom.”

“Not a problem, Professor.” Harry said calmly, ignoring the crumpled paper that hit him on the back of the head.

 

* * *

 

“You two are driving me crazy,” Liam said, groaning. “I just want to study in peace.”

Harry patted him on the head. “You know Liam, I realized something. Louis and I have never fought, in three years of dating and seven years of friendship. Which means no makeup sex.”

Liam made an I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this face.

“I agree, a complete tragedy,” Harry continued. “So even though we aren’t really fighting, this forced break means that on his birthday, we can have the best makeup sex ever!”

“You guys are still having sex. And if you aren’t really fighting, you aren’t really having make-up sex.”

Harry huffed. “Nobody asked you, Liam.”

 

* * *

 

“Ok, Wiggy, I want a twelve tier cake. And the diameter of the bottom has to be at least three house-elves wide. Are you up to the task?” Harry asked, kneeling so that he could look Wiggy straight in the eye and impart the seriousness of the situation.

Wiggy pulled over three of his friends and had a very intense discussion, with lots of whispers and hand gestures. Harry clutched Niall’s arm anxiously as he watched. Suddenly, the four elves nodded. Wiggy broke away and returned to Harry.

“Yes, Master Hazzy. We will make Master Leweees the biggest cake Hogwarts has ever seen, or die trying!” His said, his high voice piping away.

“Don’t die! But please try your hardest.” Harry said. “Niall will taste test. I want each tier to be a different flavor. And I want the top tier to taste like Yorkshire tea. Can you do that?”

“Of course, Master Hazzy. Come Master Neil! We have 150 flavors of cake to test.”

Niall grinned. He followed the house elf deep into the bowels of the cavernous kitchen. Harry could hear a cry of “This is the craic!” drifting from where Niall had disappeared.

Harry smiled. “Thanks Wiggy!” He shouted. “Bye everybody! And remember! Louis can’t know!”

 

* * *

 

“Harry!” Louis shouted, jumping on him from behind. Harry tried to wiggle out, but Louis held tight. “Harry, why do the house elves think I have Babberfluff’s Flu? They won’t let me into the kitchens! They keep saying I’ll contaminate the food!”

“Babberfluff’s Flu?” Harry asked, his eyes wide. Sometimes he really underestimated the brilliance of the house-elves. “Zayn, tell Louis to have that checked out. I hear its pretty dangerous.”

Zayn snorted, dragging on his cigarette. “Don’t pull me into this.”

“Tell him he should be in bed.” Harry added, and giggled when Louis dug his fingers into Harry’s side where he was most ticklish. “Get off, Lou!”

“He spoke!” Louis shouted in triumph. He let go of Harry and booked it, shouting, “I’m late for Quidditch. But you broke, Styles. I beat you!”

 

* * *

 

Harry hesitated, and then walked into stoner city. Actually, it was a sort of sketchy alleyway between the poisonous plants greenhouses, but stoner city was the name of the game.

There were two fifth years out of uniform, lighting up. From the smell, they had been smoking for a while.

“Styles. If you’re looking for Louis, he’s at practice.”

“I’m not looking for Louis, I’m looking for you, Weasley. Other Louis.”

Louis Weasley shrugged, his white blonde hair matted under his dark hoody. He wore muggle clothing whenever he was out of uniform, as most of the Hopkins stoners did. “I’m not gonna sell you anything without Louis’ here. He’d kill me.”

“I don’t want you to sell me anything, Weasley. Not my thing,” Harry said. He shuffled for a minute. “Remember Hog’s Head 2007?”

Louis winced, and nodded.

Harry continued, “Then you remember that you owe me. I need to call in the favor.”

Weasley raised an aristocratic Veela eyebrow. “I thought you were one of those Kumbaya-flowercrown-do-things-out-of-the-good-of-my-heart type of guys.”

“Normally, I am,” Harry said, shrugging. “We can sing Kumbaya after we chat, but I need something from you first.”

Louis stubbed the blunt in the dirt. “I’m listening.”

“So Louis’—my Louis—his favorite band is the Bitchy Pixies. And—“

 

* * *

 

Louis dropped Harry’s American Flag headscarf in Harry’s breakfast. It was dripping with mud, and now covered in strawberry jam.

“Lou!” Harry shouted, watching gelatinous mud cover his toast. “I was eating that.”

“I found this behind greenhouse 9.” Louis said, staring Harry down. “What were you doing there?”

“Making friends,” Harry said.

“So I hear,” He said, staring at Harry suspiciously. “You’ve suborned Weasley and Co., but I’ll find out what you’re up to. This is war, Styles.”

Harry smiled brightly. “I was just discussing healthy eating practices with your friends. Grass goes well with granola!”

 

* * *

 

Harry stared. “That’s her, Zayn? She looks like she’s seven. She is literally four feet tall. She’s wearing pigtails. She replaced the black buttons on her robes with pink hearts. _That’s_ her?” Harry exclaimed. The girl in question was a petite brunette with dark freckles and bright pink accessories. She was sipping out of a tiny pink teachup as she played with a lively tabby cat. If you spellsearched innocence, her picture would come up.

“That’s her. That’s Lola.” Zayn said calmly.

“She’s running the biggest black market in Hogwarts.”

“She’s smart.”

“She’s a first year!”

“With good business acumen. One of my favorite Ravenclaws. She understands supply and demand.”

Harry sighed, and walked to her seat in the corner of the Ravenclaw common room.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

Lola looked up and smiled, gesturing at the armchair next to her.

“Styles! Please do.” She said. “I was wondering when you would look for me.”

“What?”

“You’re planning a party. Parties require supplies. I provide supplies of all sorts.”

“How did you know that?” Harry asked, appalled. “That’s a secret.”

“I don’t just trade in goods. I trade in knowledge. Your secrets are rather boring though, you needn’t worry.” Lola smiled brightly, and the freckles across her face seemed darker.

“Ummm…okay,” He said. “Wait, what do you know about me?”

“Are you willing to pay to find out?”

“How much?” He asked, unsettled. He looked over at Zayn, who was posing like Adonis and purposely avoiding his crush Perrie’s eyes. Zayn would be no help with this girl.

“Two galleons.”

“No! How much could you possibly know?”

“I assure you, I am a fair judge of price. What I have on you is worth two galleons.”

“That’s terrifying.” Harry said honestly.

“Two sickles for a summary.”

“Okay?” Harry said. “Will I regret this?”

“Harry Styles, aged seventeen, from Holmes Chapel. Born to an extremely wealthy pureblood family, you came into a trust fund in the millions of galleons when you came of age three months ago—“

“—That’s not public knowledge!”

“I’m not the public. No interruptions please. You’ve been in love with Louis Tomlinson since you met him on the train first year. He featured in your first wet dream, and every single one since—“

“How do you…?”

“—then. He is an impoverished half-blood in Slytherin with a chip on his shoulder. You haven't told him about the trust fund because you know your wealth makes him uncomfortable. That’s not going to stop you from throwing him a massive party, and if he’s drunk enough he will forget to wonder what it cost. Your parents want you to go into law or arithmancy, but you would rather open a bakery for magical treats. You have applied to muggle and magical culinary schools in France, but haven’t told your parents yet. You needn’t worry. They will support you.”

“Really?”

“You have good grades in everything except Arithmancy, in which you have a Troll. You have had 36 detentions in 6 years, mostly because of Tomlinson in some way or another. Incidentally, ou two are rather kinky in bed.”

“You’re eleven, Merlin, stop! How do you know that?”

Lola paused and looked at him, surprised. “I told you, I know things.”

“Do you have cameras or something?” Harry said.

She crinkled her nose. “Of course not. I’m only eleven, I don’t want to see that. I wouldn’t want to see that if I was your age, holy hippogriffs.”

“Is he really that uncomfortable with my money?”

“Not enough that he would rather you didn’t have it. He loves the broom you got him, even if it makes him feel a bit like a kept man. But that’s mostly a joke. He’s the pants in the relationship, and you both know that.”

“We both wear pants. That’s like asking who’s the women in the relationship. We’re both guys and that’s sort of the point.”

“Don’t get all social justice on me.” She said, laughing. “He’s the more bossy one, okay?”

“Everybody in England knows that.” Harry said, unimpressed.

“You love him and want to marry him someday, and he wants the same. Neither of you have ever cheated, because I think you both sometimes forget other people exist. You’re so codependent is a little bit strange.”

“Hey!” Harry protested.

“Okay, now down to business. Do you want muggle or magical party supplies?”

“Both,”  Harry said slowly, his mind still spinning.  

“All of the typical muggle decorations and supplies in large enough quantities will cost you at least 12 galleons.”

Harry winced, and nodded. “What does that include?”

“I know you take Muggle Studies, but if I listed party supplies, you would have no idea what I was talking about. You have to trust me not to cheat you.”

“Is that smart?”

“I’m a businessperson, of course it isn’t. But you have to. Continuing on, magical goods will run you six. For your never-ending confetti, do you want rainbow, silver, or gold?”

“Silver. Lou’s a Slytherin.”

“Fireworks will cost 12. If you want the unreleased new stuff from Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, that will cost another 10. And a man to operate it will have to be smuggled in, so another 5 for that.”

“I want the unreleased stuff. The cool fireworks.”

“Perfect,” Lola said, smiling. “I like to be paid upfront.”

Harry nodded, stuffing a packed back of galleons in her hand. She counted it methodically, and then smiled. “It was wonderful doing business with you, Styles. Everything will be here two days before the party.”

“Okay.” He said, satisfied. He got up to leave.

“Styles.” Lola said sharply, incongruous with her childish voice. “There is no chance this party avoids detection. When the teachers catch you, they will not hear my name. Should they ask where you got it, you will lie. Or you will regret it.”

“Are you threatening me? You’re half my height!” Harry exclaimed.

She smiled sweetly. “You don’t want to cross me, Styles. You wouldn’t like the results.”

Harry looked at her, at her curly hair tied tight in pigtails and the DIY pink embroidery on her robes. He shivered. “I won’t. I promise.”

When he left the Ravenclaw common room, he turned to Zayn angrily.  “You did not warn me!”

“About what?” Zayn asked, patting his quiff carefully.

“That an eleven year old black market smuggler was going to be so bloody terrifying. I think I’m going to have nightmares.”

“I like her,” Zayn said, blinking slowly.

“You would.”

 

* * *

 

The Great Hall glowed in early morning, the enchanted ceiling blue as a robin's egg, cotton candy clouds drifting across slowly.  Golden sunlight shined through lead-mullioned windows, illuminating hundreds of young Hogwarts students who were digging enthusiastically into a feast of breakfast foods.  Sporadic shouts of laughter echoed through the hall as teachers watched fondly, Harry Styles bemoaned his life, and Louis Tomlinson illustrated his dick jokes with a large sausage.

“I miss him, Liam.” Harry said, resting his head on his hands. The Hufflepuff table was next to Slytherin, so Harry had a front row seat for the critically-acclaimed show that was Louis Tomlinson. Not that Louis was doing anything right now other than laughing with Zayn and eating breakfast. “Ah, look, he just pinched Macnair,” Harry added fondly. “I’m glad he’s having fun. And oh, look at how the light from the windows glints off his hair.” Harry sighed meditatively. “We’ve never fucked in the Great Hall, you know.”

“Thank god.” Liam muttered, making a face. “I eat here.”

“Maybe we will someday.”

“Please don’t. I’m a prefect, I’d have to give you a detention.”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Liam. “To give us detention, you’d have to witness us in the act. I didn’t know you wanted to watch, Li, you should have told us sooner!”

Liam hit his head on the table. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t. I’m such a good friend.” Harry said, patting Liam on the head. “Sit up and wipe the mustard off your lip.”

“What are you doing?” Liam asked as he obeyed. Harry leaned around him and flagged down the beautiful brunette walking by. Liam choked on air.

“Sophia!” Harry called out, “Come sit with us!”

“Harry!” Liam muttered, his cheeks bright red. He looked everywhere but at the girl walking towards them with a smile.

“Man up and get the girl, Payne.” Harry said, sliding over to make a space for Sophia in between himself and Liam. “Sophia, would you like to come to a party?”

 

* * *

 

Louis was late for potions. It was his birthday, and some asshole had turned off his alarm. And nobody had woken him! Louis was going to kill Zayn, particularly if Zayn didn’t transfigure him a hairbrush during class. His birthday was his day to look dashing and daring, not completely disheveled! He rushed through the empty hallways, dodging suits of armor and sliding around corners on sock covered feet. At the last minute he tugged his shoes on and then tumbled into the potions classroom.

“Thank you for joining us, Tomlinson.” Professor Abbot said sharply. “I’m so glad you made it five minutes before the end of class. May I inquire as to what so urgently required your time?”

Louis winced, and then took a bracing breath. “I tickled a sleeping dragon, Professor. Turns out they warn us against that for a reason…our encounter messed up my schedule a bit.” He said, smiling brightly.

Professor Abbot hid a smile, and Louis’ heart lifted in hope—Abbot was known to be one of the most relaxed Professors, and maybe…

Abbot’s voice was sharp as she said, “Wonderful, you can write an essay about your experience during detention tonight at seven. Come to my office at seven.”

“But Professor!” Louis cried out. “Today is my—“

“Put a sock in it, Tomlinson, you were forty minutes late to class. Go sit with your potions partner, he’s been struggling.”

Louis groaned, and wandered over to sit next to Zayn. “I hate you, just so you know.”

“What are you talking about, bro?” Zayn said, nudging him. “Love you, bro.”

“Yeah bro, whatever.”

“Broooo,” Zayn said slowly. Louis looked at him closely.

“Are you high?” Louis asked suspiciously. “During class?”

“Yeah, you want to take over this potion, bro?”

“This is the worst birthday ever,” Louis muttered despondently as he bent over the textbook and attempted to fix the foul smell emanating from the cauldron.

“Oh, is it your birthday? Today’s only the 9th,” Zayn said, confused. Louis turned away from the potion, which had started bubbling intensely, and stared at his friend.

“Bro, seriously?” Louis exclaimed. “Today is the 10th...today is my birthday.”

“Oh, happy birthday bro. But I didn’t do shit and I don’t have a present, sorry mate. Want some weed?”

“…. You have got to be fucking with me, bro.”

With a loud boom, the potion exploded out of the cauldron, drenching Louis. He stood there, his unbrushed hair and messy clothing soaked in bright green goo, smelling like rotten eggs. He stared at Zayn, who had neatly sidestepped the explosion, and then back at himself.

“Fuck!” Louis shouted. “Bloody hissing hippogriffs merlin shit! This is the worst birthday ever.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Louis clumped toward Professor Abbot’s office that night, he was in a terrible mood. Nobody had remembered his birthday. Nobody! Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Some random first year Ravenclaw with pigtails did, but that was honestly creepy. And he hadn’t seen a single glimpse of his boyfriend all day. That wasn’t that strange—Harry had been avoiding him for almost a month when they weren’t hooking up, but Harry did strange things sometimes. He once spent an entire month meditating during every free period. And another month eating only rabbit food. So Harry being spotty wasn’t that strange. But on his birthday? Harry loved birthdays—or, more specifically, he loved Louis’ birthday. So not seeing him once was really weird and annoying. Harry loved giving birthday blowjobs, and Louis had really been looking forward to receiving one. And Louis just really loved Harry in general. So where was he?

“Stop muttering morosely, Tomlinson.” Professor Abbot said, jarring Louis out of his thoughts. He had arrived at her office without noticing.

“If you had my day, you would mutter morosely too.” Louis said as he straightened up. “Am I writing an essay?”

“No, change of plans, Tomlinson. I realized I’m out of Sickening Cilantro, and I need you to go into the forest to get it.”

“Alone?” Louis asked,surprised. “I thought that was against school policy.”

“You’ve been in there alone a million times, I know what you and your four friends get up to.” She said, smirking. “But I’m giving you this stone. It lights up when you are going towards a patch, so it will lead you right to it. The Sickening Cilantro all grows in a safe part of the forest. Go in, get enough to fill this basket,” She said, reaching for small wicker basket and handing it to him. “And come back. It’ll be shorter than the average detention because I’m feeling nice.”

Louis nodded, taking the basket and the lightly glowing stone she was holding out, and turned to leave.

“Tomlinson!” She called out when before he was out the door.

“Professor?”

“Happy birthday.”

Louis laughed. “I don’t suppose you want to let me out of detention because of it?”

“Not a chance, Tomlinson,” Abbot said, laughing. “Shoo!”

Louis meandered out of school, which was strangely empty. He didn’t see anybody older than a third year in the halls, which was rare, but he shrugged and moved on.

It was a warm night for early December, but he tugged on gloves anyways. He picked his way through the pumpkin patch and into the woods, before turning in a circle. When the stone was pointing directly into the forest, it began to glow brightly.

“Okay. Going that way, I guess.” Louis muttered. He walked confidently through the forest, listening closely to what was around him and keeping his eyes open, but he was unafraid. Abbot was right, Louis had been in the forest a million times, and a close friendship with Hagrid had taught him enough tricks to traverse the Forbidden Forest safely.

He walked for twenty minutes, constantly swinging the stone in front of him to make sure he was going to right direction. All at once he saw the light of a clearing in front of him. The stone tugged him towards it. He stepped into the undulating grass and—

“SURPRISE!” A thousand voices shouted, and Louis jumped backwards in shock, tumbling to the ground. Suddenly confetti was pouring out of the sky and music pumping, and the entire school was standing there and cheering, a happy riot of color and noise and movement. Louis blinked once, and then twice, and pinched himself, before getting off the ground.

“You weren’t there a minute ago,” he muttered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Happy birthday, Boobear!” A familiar voice said from behind him. Louis turned around, slowly, and absorbed the sight of Harry, standing in the field behind him. He was wearing a sheer shirt unbottened almost all the way and black skinny jeans that seemed glued on and, Louis realized with a blink, bright sparkling gold boots. Harry’s wand was in the air, streaming golden sparkles that fizzled out before they touched Louis’ skin, and the light sent golden tracks all over Harry’s skin. Louis met Harry’s glittering green eyes, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, fighting to match Harry’s bright grin.

“Hi Hazza.” He said, smiling ruefully.

“You were surprised, weren’t you?” Harry said, his dimples deepening.

“No, of course not. Can’t surprise me.” Louis said pompously. He reached out and pulled Harry closer.

"You fell over," Harry giggled, wrapping his arms around Louis. “Do you like your surprise?”

Louis looked around him at the cheering students in their best rave attire and what most be tons of confetti falling out of the sky like rain, turning everybody into balls of glitter. “I don’t know, babe, there isn’t really enough confetti.” He said, smiling, and kissed Harry’s nose.

He was about to pull Harry in for a real kiss when Harry dodged.

“Hey!” Louis said unhappily.

“I didn’t plan this party just for us to sneak off before it starts!” Harry said, and suddenly three more bodies piled onto their hug.

“Happy Birthday mate!”

“Bro!”

“Louis!! Seventeen, mate!"

Louis laughed and high five everybody within reach.  When he turned around again, his eyes widened.

While they were hugging, a massive tent had appeared across the large field, as big as the great hall. Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him in, the rest of Hogwarts streaming behind them. There were lights streaking across the tent, with large mirrored balls spinning and casting light patterns across the tent.

“Look at the disco balls!” Harry shouted. “They’re muggle!”

“I love big balls.” Louis said, nodding solemnly.

Harry laughed, and yanked Louis onto the dance floor. There was still confetti appearing out of thin air, and the music pumped across the room. He could see Niall eating furiously at a massive buffet table that was groaning under sweets and a champagne tower, and Zayn lighting up in a haze of multi-colored smoke. And—

“Is that Liam dancing with Sophia Smith?” Louis asked, shocked.

Harry did a double take, and then whooped. “Get it, Liam!”

Louis spun in a circle, staring at the weird glowing necklaces on peoples necks and the games of butterbeer pong in the corner and the packed dance floor covered in gyrating teens and the fairies flying overhead, and was that a centaur dancing with some third years? A bunch of teen girls ran by with pigmy puffs while a balloon exploded overhead, raining candy on the crowd.

Suddenly Harry tugged on Louis’ elbow, turning him towards a large stage next to the dance floor. A glittering curtain covered in a moving image of the ocean began to rise, revealing a fog filled stage. Out of the fog ran three of the most famous women in the wizarding world, completely with enchanted tattoos and piles of brightly colored hair.

“Holy Hippogriffs!” Louis shouted. “The Bitchy Pixies?”

He pushed towards the stage as Harry followed, smiling fondly.

The lead singer, Heximilia, grabbed the mic. “I hear it’s some punk’s birthday today, one Louis Tomlinson!”

Louis grinned, and the crowd cheered.

“Come on then, Hogwarts, lets sing him Happy Birthday, Pixie style!”

All of Hogwarts sang along as she growled Happy Birthday angrily into the mic, Louis watching with glee. Harry draped himself around his boyfriend, singing softly in his ear. “Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Louieeeeeesssss.”

For centuries, Louis Tomlinson’s Birthday Party was passed down in the annals of history as the best Hogwarts party of all time, whispers of magic and mystery and wild revels coloring the dreams of young First Years. Louis partied in a haze of weed and firewhiskey and pure happiness. The night blurred together in his mind—a multicolored pig running across the dance floor—Zayn and Perrie spray painting a Christmas tree—Niall attacking him with some weird muggle string thing while shouting, “This muggle silly string stuff is the craic!”—that same random First Year who wished him happy birthday pushing a basket filled with herbs into his hands and informing him that, although Abbot was in on the party, he still owed her some Sickening Cilantro—four house-elves pushing him bodily into a twelve tier cake that tasted like tea—exploding sequins and Firewhiskey and sweat—the Bitchy Pixies screaming as he danced into oblivion, his limbs shaking—random hands pushing gifts into his hands and patting him on the back—looking in a mirror and realizing his hair had turned blue—toasts to his future and Hogwarts and being seventeen—blinking lights and people growing and shrinking and crowd-surfing—seventeen candles burning brightly—and Harry, always Harry, beautiful, lovely Harry, smiling and dancing and hugging Louis, picking Louis up as he fell over and stuffing cake or butterbeer or water in his hands whenever they were empty, Harry sneaking kisses whenever possible, smiling brightly at Louis as his chocolate curls fell in his eyes. Harry kissed him, and Louis pulled him in tighter, felt Harry all over his skin, Harry tasting like sunshine as they kissed and kissed.

Harry pulled away slowly. “Hazza, why’d you stop.” Louis murmured, pulling him back.

“Babe, look up.” Harry whispered.

The tent overhead had disappeared while they kissed, and the students of Hogwarts danced under the Scotland sky. Louis stared upwards at the moon and then, with a whistle and bang, a firework exploded across the sky.  That lone firework disappeared, and the sky suddenly filled with fireworks.  Dragons and animals and the Doncaster Rovers Quidditch logo glittered in the night sky. The entire school oohed and ahhd. Louis watched the sky, and Harry watched the reflection of the fireworks in Louis’ blue eyes.

The finale glowed and banged and lit up the sky for miles, so large that every teacher in Hogwarts and muggles from miles away saw it and stared, amazed. Across an explosion of color, silver words were written across sky, silver letters spelling "I love you Lou- H."  A glowing picture of Louis, Harry, Niall, Zayn, and Liam hugging in a pile exploded in the sky, and stayed.  The five friends were frozen into impermanent constellations.

Louis stared at it, and then turned and pulled Harry into a kiss, his fingers tangled in Harry’s hair. They kissed for seconds and hours as the night sky exploded behind them.

When they broke apart, Louis leaned his forehead against Harry’s fondly. He turned back to the sky, where the portraits of the five and the writing still painted the sky, more fireworks exploding around them. 

“I love you too, H,” Louis said softly.  “This might have been sort of a surprise to me. A good surprise. But don’t get a big head or anything.”

Harry kissed Louis' forehead, and they stood together, still, as the wild revelry raged around them.

Louis laughed, glancing up once more. “I don’t look like that, though.” He said, pointing at his firework portrait. “Why is my hair multi-colored and spiky?  We look like a boyband.  I look like I'm in *NSYNC."

Harry giggled. “Because baby, you’re a firework!"

**Author's Note:**

> Severus Snape may be able to bottle happiness, but no bottled happiness brings me as much joy as your reviews! Please please review if you like it, and if you hated it...thanks for reading this far?


End file.
